


The Last Five Years

by haggarrrd



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, the last five years/les mis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:53:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haggarrrd/pseuds/haggarrrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Enjolras' five year relationship, from beginning to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Five Years

Grantaire hesitates at the bottom of the red brick driveway that leads to the house that he shares with Enjolras, frowning at the pitch black windows and lifeless rooms beyond them. Enjolras promised he'd be home tonight for once, the lights should be on and Enjolras should be sat at his desk in front of the large bay window, working on his latest project. But the house looks, and surely is, empty. Grantaire can't even tell if he's angry or relieved. He sighs and starts up the driveway, slowly walking up the ten steps it takes him to get to the front door, then pauses to wrestle his keys out of his pocket. 

He knows that things aren't perfect between he and Enjolras any more, no matter how much Grantaire wishes that they were. Maybe it's because he's trying too hard, or maybe they just weren't supposed to be together, but no matter what he does, Grantaire can't force them back into that wonderful place they'd been in five years ago, when their friends were jealous of their relationship. Grantaire blames Enjolras' career for coming between them, and Enjolras for letting it. He knows that he should be happy for Enjolras, and he is, he's so proud, but at the same time he can't stop being so resentful of Enjolras' career. The one time Grantaire let that slip in an argument, Enjolras called him bitter, and deep down Grantaire knows that he is. Enjolras has an amazing career, with his face all over billboards advertising his books. Enjolras can't even walk through town any more without stopping him and telling him how much of an inspiration he is, while Grantaire is lucky if he manages to sell two paintings a month. He knows he's bitter, even though he tries not to be. He doesn't need Enjolras telling him that he is. 

"Enjolras?" Grantaire calls out when he walks through the door, even though he knows that there's no one else in their home; the dark rooms and locked doors tell him as much, but Grantaire can't help but hope that Enjolras will walk out from somewhere. There's rarely anyone in their home these days; Enjolras spends too much time avoiding Grantaire and going to parties that he pretends will further his career, and Grantaire spends too much time drinking in his art studio. Part of Grantaire still has a shred of hope that one day Enjolras will put him before one of his parties and actually want to spend time with him, even though he knows that he never will. Grantaire will never let go of that one, tiny bit of worthless hope, and he's worried it might kill him.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Even if Enjolras was home, Grantaire knows that they'd probably be arguing; they don't seem to do much else these days, so it's probably better that he's off doing god knows what with god knows who. Grantaire isn't sure that he can take many more arguments. His heart tugs painfully in his chest, because the part of Grantaire that's glad that Enjolras isn't home rears its head, and this isn't the first time that he's noticed that it's starting to grow bigger than the part of him that wants Enjolras there. He doesn't want to accept it, but Grantaire knows that that speaks volumes about their relationship. They're doomed and he knows it, he just can't accept it. 

He kicks off his paint splattered boots and flicks the hallway light on, all the while trying not to imagine the argument they'll have when Enjolras finally manages to make an appearance. Grantaire actively tries not to start arguments because he knows that he's so lucky to have Enjolras. He really is. And they're falling apart. It isn't Grantaire's fault, and he supposes that it isn't really Enjolras' fault either. These things just happen, but Grantaire knows that he doesn't always help the situation. He drinks and gets surly, even though he knows how much Enjolras hates it when he drinks. Eve when he tries not to start an argument, either by playing nice or by ignoring Enjolras all together, somehow an argument still happens. He wonders if they know how to do anything but argue at this point.

He goes into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, twisting it open with ease. He doesn't like the fact that he drinks all the time any more that Enjolras does, but he's not blind to the fact that they're probably going to break up, and drinking helps. He walks into the lounge and flicks the light on as he goes. His eyes are automatically drawn to the wedding picture on Enjolras' desk, as they always are. He frowns, however, at the note he spots sticking out from underneath the frame; Enjolras doesn't leave notes, these days he just comes and goes as he pleases and doesn't think about how Grantaire feels about it. He wanders over and grabs the note, not even bothering to stand the photo frame back up when it topples over. He reads it quickly, then has to read it again slowly just to make sure he really understands what Enjolras has written. He does. Enjolras is always concise and straight to the point.

Enjolras is gone. He doesn't know where, the note doesn't say, he just knows that he's gone and he won't be coming back. The note says that much. Grantaire sinks into Enjolras' desk chair and ignores the tears that are on his cheeks, barely even registering them. He knows that he should have been expecting it, they haven't been happy for a while now so why would Enjolras want to be with him. Still, he didn't think Enjolras would ever actually leave, and he didn't think it would hurt this much. But it does, oh god it does. It hurts so much he feels like he can't even breathe.

Just like that, in a note that barely spans across one side of a piece of paper, Enjolras has decided that it's time to move on. Grantaire wonders if he ever really knew Enjolras at all, because he never thought that Enjolras would throw their entire relationship away through a letter. He never thought that Enjolras was that cowardly. Two years of marriage, five years, only deserve a hastily written note. And Grantaire is supposed to be okay with that, because Enjolras is so wonderful he knows that he never truly deserved him in the first place, but no matter how he twists it, Grantaire will never be okay with the note on the desk in front of him, Enjolras' ring placed carefully just above it, next to his house key and a cut up bank card. Enjolras leaving would be painful any way, but he thinks he'd be able to handle it more if Enjolras actually told him to his face; that way he'd feel like he at least meant something to him. 

Whatever dreams Enjolras decides he wants to build now, he doesn't want Grantaire to be a part of it, and that kills him. Enjolras is gone, but Grantaire is left with a home full of memories, smiling pictures of their life surrounding him, reminding him that they were happy once. Grantaire is left with nothing but pain, and he knows that Enjolras will be feeling fine. 

Anger rears its head, because he knows that Enjolras thinks that all of the problems are down to Grantaire. Grantaire and his myriad of problems, as Enjolras calls it. Enjolras is good at ignoring the fact that he's sitting on so many broken promises and so many lies. Lies about how much he loved Grantaire, and promises that no matter what happened, he'd never leave. He promised that it would always be the two of them, that they'd ride of any problems. But here they are, with so much distance between that that Grantaire doesn't think that there's a chance that they would ever be able to reach each other again.

He thinks about calling someone; Jehan maybe, but he knows that Jehan and Courfeyrac were Enjolras' friends first. He has no right to them now. He has no one to turn to now that Enjolras has gone, and that makes the loneliness all the more real. He doesn't have Enjolras, doesn't have Jehan, doesn't have anybody; all he has is a heart full of scars he did nothing to earn. 

He gets up and walks around the room, flipping pictures over as he goes so that he can't se how happy they were. He's sure that somewhere there's a lesson for him to learn from all of this; that he's better off alone, that happiness can't be trusted. But none of that can change the fact that Enjolras is gone, and gone for good. There are people he could call to track him down--Combeferre, Cossette--but he doesn't see the point. If Enjolras wanted to be found, he wouldn't have left in the first place, leaving nothing but a note behind. He still loves Enjolras enough to let him go, the way he wants to be let go.

Grantaire goes into their bedroom and slides his wedding band off of his finger and drops it on top of the bureau, along with the watch that Enjolras gave him for Christmas a few years ago. It doesn't feel right to wear them now, no matter how much it kills him to take them off. He tells himself to shove them in a draw where he can't see them, but he can't bring himself to do it. He can't shove Enjolras away like he meant nothing, the same way that Enjolras has done to him.

He sits on the edge of their bed and lets his head drop into his hands; he has no idea what he's going to do now. For years his entire life has revolved around Enjolras and trying to make him happy. He doesn't know what to do now that he's back to square one; he's never been good at being alone, and now he's so used to having Enjolras that the thought of being by himself terrifies him.

He gets up and grabs his abandoned beer, then goes back into their bedroom and crawls under the covers on Enjolras' side, breathing in his husband's scent. 

For now he needs to pretend that Enjolras will come home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only chapter I've written for this so far, I'm not 100% sure that I want to carry on with it but if you guys like it enough then I'm sure I will!


End file.
